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Painters and poets have liberty to lie.
Robert Burns
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Robert Burns
Age: 37 †
Born: 1759
Born: January 25
Died: 1796
Died: July 21
Farmer
Musicologist
Poet
Songwriter
Writer
Robbie Burns
Rabbie Burns
Scotland's favourite son
Ploughman Poet
Robden of Solway Firth
Bard of Ayrshire
The Bard
Robert Burns
Painter
Poet
Painting
Liberty
Lying
Painters
Poets
More quotes by Robert Burns
Nae man can tether time or tide The hour approachesTam maun ride That hour, o'night's black arch the key-stane, That dreary hourTam mounts his beast in.
Robert Burns
Auld Nature swears the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O!
Robert Burns
But deep this truth impressed my mind — Thro' all his works abroad, The heart benevolent and kind The most resembles God.
Robert Burns
My heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody.
Robert Burns
Their sighing, canting, grace-proud faces, their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces.
Robert Burns
On Earth, Discord! A gloomy Heaven above, opening her jealous gates to the nineteen thousandth part of the tithe of mankind! And below, an inescapable & inexorable Hell, expanding its leviathan jaws for the vast residue of Mortals!
Robert Burns
Beauty's of a fading nature. Has a season and is gone!
Robert Burns
And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan A lady fair. Wha does the utmost that he can Will whyles do mair.
Robert Burns
Some books are lies frae end to end.
Robert Burns
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.
Robert Burns
That hour o' night's black arch the keystane.
Robert Burns
To see her is to love her, And love but her forever For nature made her what she is, And never made anither!
Robert Burns
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, And o'er the crystal streamlet plays.
Robert Burns
The best plans of men and mice often go awry.
Robert Burns
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
Robert Burns
Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Robert Burns
Not the bee upon the blossom, In the pride o' sunny noon Not the little sporting fairy, All beneath the simmer moon Not the poet, in the moment Fancy lightens in his e'e, Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, That thy presence gi'es to me.
Robert Burns
Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear.
Robert Burns
The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
Robert Burns
O Life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I!
Robert Burns
